1 Million Join Revelry on Rose Parade Route : ‘Celebration of Laughter’ Is Pasadena Theme; Shooting Incident, Bomb Scare Mar Festivities

Dazzling floral floats celebrating merriment and childlike revelry greeted the New Year along the streets of Pasadena Wednesday, gliding past 1 million spectators, many brushing aside the exhaustion of their overnight wait to join in a shower of applause for the 1986 Tournament of Roses Parade, dubbed a “Celebration of Laughter.”

The traditional New Year’s celebrations along the parade route, many of them rowdy, produced several incidents of violence and 481 arrests, by far the largest number in parade history, Pasadena police said, and one of the floats was sidelined by a bomb scare.

A 20-year-old Pasadena man was shot in the face during an argument on Colorado Boulevard in the crowds partying early Wednesday morning along the parade route. He was in critical condition at Huntington Memorial Hospital, and detectives were searching for his assailant, who vanished into the surrounding throng.

A suspicious object discovered on the rear of the Iowa-Big Ten conference float was determined to be part of the float mechanism--but not until police diverted it to a side street, evacuated the area and called in the sheriff’s bomb squad to dismantle the device.

The parade itself triumphed over the customary widespread delays and mechanical difficulties. The U.S. Marine Corps Band, first of the 113 parade units, opened the procession within minutes of the official 8:20 a.m. start time. And the final float, the starburst-dominated “Islands in the Sun” sponsored by the U.S. Virgin Islands, followed exactly two hours later as scheduled.

Only a few floats developed engine or hydraulic problems during the procession, and they were pulled to the side until repairs could be made or tow trucks arrived.

Most of the crowd, unaware of the shooting incident or the bomb scare, laughed and kidded throughout the parade, cheering lustily, tossing out judgments on each of the floats and taking sides in the subsequent UCLA-Iowa football contest in the nearby Rose Bowl.

“I’m just overwhelmed--the reality of finally seeing the parade,” gushed Vene Cermak of Antioch, Ill.

Cermak, 67, was sitting in the grandstand with a friend, Doris Gantzer, 68, from Kenosha, Wis. Cermak’s six children, well aware that their mother had pined over the Rose Parade for years, had pooled their money and sent her to Pasadena. Gantzer decided to come along for the ride.

“It has been a life-long dream,” said Cermak. “My children gave me this.”

Veteran Spectators

Even long-time parade goers found something to appreciate.

Letty Herron of West Los Angeles has spent each New Year’s Day for 36 years--nearly half of her 73-year lifetime--in the same location, just east of Orange Grove Boulevard on Colorado.

“It’s so fantastic,” she said. “They can’t have a parade without me anymore!”

She and 10 other family members staked out their traditional spot on Saturday, evading police officers who rousted those who camped before Tuesday noon. The long wait taught Letty Herron something about the growing popularity of Pasadena’s annual tribute to floral overstatement.

“Back in 1951, I was able to come here about midnight and get my place,” she said. “But now I have to come four to five days early. But it’s worth every minute of my time.”

Herron and the other million or so in-person observers gathered for the open-air party under a Rose Parade tradition--rain-free skies. Although weather forecasters said Tuesday that some sprinkles might fall on the parade, the weather remained dry, if cloudy. The last time it rained on Pasadena’s parade was in 1955.

Blamed on Weather

Parade-time temperatures were in the 60s, slightly warmer than normal. Overnight temperatures were likewise warmer than normal--an occurrence that police blamed for the unusually rowdy behavior of the crowd.

Police Sgt. Mike Guerin described the crowd as “more active” than usual.

“There were higher temperatures and they did not want to cuddle in sleeping bags,” he said. “People in many areas did not go to sleep all night; they usually cuddle up at 3:30 or 4. People were active; they drank a lot.”

By the time the crowd dispersed at about 1 p.m., 481 people had been arrested--well over the previous reported high of 350 in 1981.

Guerin said 428 of the arrests were alcohol-related, involving either possession of alcohol, public drunkenness or disturbing the peace.

Victim of Shooting

In the most serious incident, 20-year-old Elfonte Howard of Pasadena was shot in the face and critically wounded after he argued with another man on Colorado Boulevard. Howard was rushed to Huntington Memorial Hospital’s intensive-care ward after the 3:49 a.m. shooting.

Guerin said detectives had interviewed several eyewitnesses to the shooting and “have developed some leads.”

In an unrelated incident, another man suffered cuts when he was hit in the face with a beer bottle, Guerin said. The man, whose name was not immediately known, was not injured seriously.

By late afternoon, police relaxed their investigation of the second major disturbance--the bomb scare--after determining that it never posed a threat to the crowd.

The scare began when, less than an hour after the parade stepped off, a Tournament of Roses volunteer saw someone apparently place an object on the rear of the Big Ten float, dedicated to conference champion Iowa and carrying five of the school’s cheerleaders.

Diverted From Route

Police called to the site found a six-inch-long box containing wires on the back of the float. They immediately steered the float from Colorado Boulevard north to the intersection of St. John Avenue and Union Street, Guerin said.

As the sheriff’s bomb squad began studying the device, police ordered several dozen people out of the immediate area. But sheriff’s deputies soon determined that the device was not explosive and, instead, was probably part of the float’s guidance system.

Inquiry Continues

“It could have been there all along,” Guerin said.

After the device was removed, officials towed the float to the post-parade area for viewing. An investigation to pinpoint the origin of the device was continuing.

While police and sheriff’s deputies investigated the Iowa float out of the sight of most parade watchers, the rest of the procession carried on in style. Floats commemorating everything from the Statue of Liberty--the Elks’ contribution--to a family of skunks--First Interstate Bancorp’s entry--cheered spectators. Award winners and losers alike won cheers, or at least polite applause.

Tournament officials handed out 18 major awards, including one both perverse and crowd-pleasing.

Santa Ana’s float, a comic depiction of that bane of most motorists--a Santa Ana Freeway traffic jam--won applause and the Pioneer’s Trophy for its skewering of hair-combing Valley girls, agog surfers, photo-snapping tourists and a few chickens sharing the usually jammed and crash-ridden freeway.

But “Friday on the Freeway” also won guffaws when people learned what the prize was for--best depiction of the romance of California.

Carrying away the grand prize Sweepstakes Award was the Singapore Airlines Tourist Promotion Board’s depiction of its country’s “Monkey God” festival, replete with stiltwalkers and acrobats who cavorted for the crowd.

Culver City won the Theme Trophy--given to the float best showing the “Celebration of Laughter” theme--for a crowd-approved tribute to the kings of comedy. The Marx Brothers, the Keystone Cops and Laurel and Hardy, in a collision of cars and a train, bobbed their heads to the crowd.

Emphasis on Humor

The Queen’s Trophy, for best use of roses, went to the Bank of America for its “Tea for Two,” a humorous look at a genteel two-headed dragon having tea--with herself.

Watching over the parade was the 1986 grand marshal, humorist and author Erma Bombeck, who spent the parade waving docilely to the crowd but got off a few zingers before her departure.

Of the Rose Bowl, she said, “It’s the first bowl I’ve ever seen that I don’t have to clean.” And when she got a look at the car in which she and her family were driven, she added, “It’s a ’33 Packard, and they call it an antique. I have a cookie sheet older than this car.”

Following Bombeck down the 5 1/2-mile parade route was Rose Queen Aimee Lynn Richelieu and her princesses--Shannon Colleen Guernsey, Christine Helen Huff, April Ashley Lake, Tracey Kay Langford, Julene Maree Penner and Loreen Belle Weeks.

But as much as to them, the parade belonged to the cheering crowds, whose celebration began days before the parade and did not subside until the last float had come through. The crowd started gathering on the weekend, and by Tuesday night was 200,000 strong, all supported with chairs, cast-off couches, copious amounts of liquor and an occasional bite of food.

Party for Throwing

Overnight, even the well-mannered ones engaged in fits of toilet paper- and confetti-throwing, tossing in a few marshmallows for good measure when the inspiration hit.

“It was just total chaos,” said Deidre Stoos of South Gate, sharing her Colorado Boulevard campsite with the California and Iowa branches of her family.

Stoos was wearing an Iowa T-shirt--”I’ve never been there but I know this is a nice shirt. I needed a new one,” she explained--and her site was one of the few in which Hawkeyes and Californians sat together in peace.

A bit east on Colorado, Bill Rodewald, a 53-year-old from Surfside, had staked out his position with a flatbed truck and a camper. Relatives and guests streamed there from New York, Connecticut, Pennsylvania, Oklahoma and Washington, but . . .

“No Iowans allowed,” he declared decisively.

Long, Hard Journey

Some Iowans got to the parade, welcome or not. One group of three Iowa University students had a particularly tough journey. They left Iowa Saturday on a chartered bus, which broke down in Santa Rosa, N.M., the next day. After a day’s wait at a gas station, they made it to Albuquerque, stayed there overnight, and flew to Los Angeles International Airport. There, they rented a van for the ride to Pasadena.

“It was definitely worth it,” said Dan Finch, 21, of Guttenberg, Iowa.

Another Iowan offered a more detailed reason for enjoying himself.

“We’re amazed at the attitude of the people here,” said Gary Langel, a 25-year-old cabinet maker. “Here they’re so relaxed. Everybody is so straight-laced in Iowa.”

Others at the parade were obviously from California. Ted Van, of Los Angeles, walked around all morning in a red and white nightgown, complete with nightcap. He does this every year, he said matter-of-factly.

“I have my thermal underwear on, although it normally doesn’t stay on for the whole time,” he confided. This year, like every year before, Van people-watched before the parade, then scurried home to watch the procession itself on television.

“I enjoy people,” he said happily.

Change in Program

The parade, especially its slow moments, brought out the latent municipal cheerleaders in a host of celebrants. Even the owners of the local adult theater got into the act.

A spokesman for the State Theater on Colorado Boulevard said they decided not to show the usual X-rated fare Tuesday night. Instead, they spiffed up the place and opened it as a combination snack bar and public restroom. It did a brisk business, largely because its restrooms were rated higher than the smelly portable toilets available elsewhere.

“We tried to cater to a family taste today,” said the spokesman. “We’ve got a market here and it’s a family market.”

Wednesday night, however, the movie promotional signs that had been modestly taken down were put back up again--and “Hanky Panky” and “Can’t Get Enough” went back up on the screen.

In less curious surroundings, real cheerleaders prevailed. Dino Iacodino, 28, of La Habra, led the UCLA cheers in an inter-school rivalry that volleyed across Colorado Boulevard near Berkeley Avenue.

Bow to Competitors

“These guys are very together,” he noted in a sportsmanlike gesture to his across-the-street Iowa competitors.

Down the road, C. Wayne Banks of Dallas was a little more reserved, if still joyful. The 63-year-old counselor spent $2,000 to bring his wife and himself to California for the big parade, but decided “it’s worth every penny.”

Banks was at the parade only because he recently found out that a section of land on Sierra Madre Boulevard is reserved for handicapped people.

“I wanted to do this all my life,” he said in his wheelchair, smiling. “I didn’t figure I would ever get here.”

Contributing to this story were Times staff writers Sebastian Dortch, Sibyl Jefferson and Elizabeth Lu.